Disclaimer: I do not own Lake House.
A/N: Just for your information, this chapter is set just a little bit before Alex buys the Lake House.
Mother's POVThe dried leaves crackle under my feet as I step out of the car. It's been so long since I've been here. The place looks so weathered now, the flower boxes that hang have broken. Once upon a time my ex-husband made those beautiful flower boxes.
The glass structure glares back at me. It seems to taunt me. You foolish woman! The Lake House cries. You gave up so much happiness!
"I didn't know! The eyes of my heart were shut!" I shout at the house in return. I'm glad that the Lake House is located in such a remote area, or people would've thought that I belonged in a straightjacket. Perhaps I did. I had never been the same since the last time I walked out the Lake House's door.
When I first met him, I was young, still in high school. He had a few years on me- he was in his first year of college then. We became good friends, and, one night, as I sat there, admiring his architecture sketchbook, he leaned over and kissed me. And then I kissed him back. My parents strongly disapproved of me dating a boy more than a year older than me, so I tried to forget him, although I never succeeded entirely. A few years later, I was standing in the concession stand at the movies with my then-boyfriend when a man accidentally bumped into me.
"Sorry," he murmured.
"It's fine," I rejoined, lifting my head. I froze. It was him. As in any good romance, the fire of our old love was rekindled and it all led to marriage.
In the beginning our marriage was ideal and wonderful. I gave birth to two sons- Harry and Alex. They brought so much joy into our life, or at least to mine. When not caring for the boys, I would sit by his side as he designed new buildings. He always said that I was his inspiration. Apparently, he didn't always need me by his side for inspiration. He locked himself away in his study and sketched and sketched and sketched all day and through the night.
One day he announced that he was building a house for us on the nearby lake. His "crowning achievement", he called it. He told me that the house was to be an attempt at capturing my spirit in a piece of architecture. I snapped at him, asking him how he could possibly know me. I stormed out of the room and left him to his own thoughts. When he moved Alex, Harry, and I into the house, I was shocked at the main construction material used- glass.
"A glass house!" I had cried. "Why did you build a glass house?"
"Because you are like glass," he replied. I decided that one day I would prove him wrong.
Even in my quest to become less like glass, my idealistic side won me over for at least an hour every day. Often, I would sit in the woods surrounding the Lake House and loose myself in my past memories of my husband. The first time we met, our reunion, in the first few years of our marriage were replayed like a movie in my head over and over again. I must've looked half dead to anyone who would've seen me.
Finally, the day came when I proved my husband that I wasn't like glass. On that day, before the sun had even risen, I walked out off the Lake House for the final time, leaving him and the children alone. Heaven knows how he felt when he woke to find me not at his side. The years went on, and I wandered about the country, not sure where I belonged. I went to modern metropolises such as New York and Los Angeles as well as beautiful, old cities steeped in history such as Boston and Savannah. Once, I came close to marriage, but I broke the engagement out of fear.
Now I suppose I've come full circle, for I find myself back at the Lake House. Perhaps I am like glass.
A/N: Well, there's the end of it all. Please R&R!